ade game of by a scurvy Italian bookworm and a
witless----"

The adjectives and expletives which followed may not be reported here.
As the storm of words progressed, growing more violent in its
continuance, Droop stood open-mouthed, not comprehending the cause of
this tirade. Of the others, but one preserved his wits at this moment of
danger.

Sir Percevall, well aware that the Queen's fury, unless checked, would
produce his and his client's ruin, determined to divert this flood of
emotion into a new channel. With the insight of genius, the fat knight
realized that only a woman's curiosity could avert a queen's rage, and
with what speed he could he stumbled backward to where Droop had left
his exhibits. He lifted the box containing the phonograph and, taking
the instrument out, held it on the palm of his huge left hand and bent
his eyes upon it in humble and resigned contemplation.

The quick roving eye of the angry Queen caught sight of this queer
assemblage of cogs, levers, and cylinder, and for the first time her
too-ready tongue tripped. She looked away and recovered herself to the
end of the sentence. She could not resist another look, however, and
this time her words came more slowly. She paused--wavered--and then
fixed her gaze in silence upon the enigmatical device. There was a
unanimous smothered sigh as the bystanders recognized their good
fortune. Guido, frightened half to death, slipped unobserved out of a
side door, and was never seen at Greenwich again. Nor has that fatal
newspaper been heard from since.

"What may that be, Sir Percevall?" the Queen inquired at length,
settling back in her chair as comfortably as her ruff would permit.

"This, my liege, is the phonograph," said the knight, straightening
himself proudly.

"An my Greek be not at fault," said the Queen, "this name should purport
a writer of sound."

Sir Percevall's face fell. He was no Greek scholar, and this query
pushed him hard. Fortunately for him, Elizabeth turned to Droop as she
concluded her sentence.

"Hath your invention this intent, Master Droop?" she said.

"Verily, I guess you've hit it--I wot that's right!" stammered the still
frightened man.

A very audible murmur of admiration passed from one to another of the
assembled courtiers and ladies-in-waiting. These expressions reached the
ears of the Queen, for whom they were indeed intended, and the
consciousness of her acumen restored Elizabeth entirely to good-humor.